It All Came Tumblin Down
by StartTheFantasy
Summary: September 11th, a day that will never be forgotten. Lives forever changed, hearts forever broken. A tragedy turns into a blessing for a broken soul. Finding her freedom beyond the ashes. This is the story of a miracle. Contains Mature themes. ExB
1. Chapter 1

**Lplover93** was kind enough to beta this chapter for me, since my lovely, **Cullen Confection **was drooling and snoring away on her pillow. I could never wake her from her Rob humping dreams.. *snickers*

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><p><strong>Warning:<strong> This chapter contains sensitive matters.

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I'm not Stephenie Meyer, nor will I ever be. I will never be able to say that I dreamed up the whole mess of the 'Twilight Saga', but I am me, and I have a sick and twisted mind. I will continue to be the same person who enjoys reading hot as fuck lemons, and writing said, hot as fuck, lemons.

That being said… The idea for this story was birthed in my best friends mind, and she did write the first chapter. It was after writing most of this chapter, that she felt the need to pass it along to me. Apparently this was my story, as she so eloquently put it. So I'm here, editing what she wrote, and bringing it to all you lovely ass bitches. I hope to bring it justice, and make her proud. *snorts* I flove you, Minerva! Always will, bitch! HaHa

Please know, that I haven't written anything like this in the past, and that it will take me some time. Updates will come when they come, I won't sit here and promise that you'll see them once a week, or anything like that. I will tell you though, that I will give it my all.

Now, let's get this shit started…

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><p>"Isabella!" The cold tenor of his voice called.<p>

"Where in the hell are you?" His voice demanded, growing louder and deeper, the closer he got. My body shook with fear, knowing he was pissed.

Hello, my name is Isabella Marie (Swan) Smith. I am a twenty-five year old woman, who married her college sweetheart, James Smith; although I could hardly call him sweetheart these days.

I grew up in Manhattan, New York. My father was a cab driver, while my mother worked endless hours at a local diner. We didn't have much, but they raised me the best that they could. My mother made sure that I got a college education, as she and my father both worked over-time to pay for it.

I married James straight out of college. Not long after, I opened my own business "_Bella's Designs_." My office was located in Tower One of the World Trade Center, in lower Manhattan. My husband, James worked down the street in his own law firm. So together, James and I lived a very comfortable life, financially speaking.

When I first met James, my senior year of college, he seemed to be everything I wanted in a man. He was well educated, strong-minded and polite. James was a very quiet man but fun. When I married James, I vowed that I would do my best as his wife and at the time I meant it. With all of my heart, I meant it. We weren't even six months into our marriage when I discovered a side of James, that made me fear for my life.

One evening, I came home late after a long day at the office to find James pacing the living room floor. His face was set in stone and his eyes were filled with fierce hatred. I approached him slowly, but before I could ask what was wrong, he lashed out, smacking me hard across the face and called me a whore. The blow to my face sent me backwards, my body crumbled, as I hit the wall.

With each blow, he accused me of cheating and demanded that I sell my company; the very company I put all my blood, sweat, and tears into. James angrily explained to me that night that I was to be a homemaker and mother to his children.

Don't get me wrong, I wanted children, but not that soon and I sure as hell didn't want to sell my company. I loved that company; I built it myself from the ground up. I'll admit that my success wasn't hard to come by and I managed to thrive in a short length of time, but goddamn it, that was my company.

That night, before I let sleep pull me under, I watched James as he slept. I was baffled, hurt and saddened by the fact that he had a violent side to him. I couldn't believe that he had hit me tonight. He had never done anything like this in the past. We had had difference of opinions in the past, but never had he ever laid a finger on me to cause me harm.

"Isabella!" His harsh voice pulled me from my thoughts, causing my body to tense.

I finished brushing my teeth, darting for the door. My eyes met his, as he was stood there waiting for me at the bathroom door. His arms were crossed one over the other, resting on his chest.

"How many damn times must I call for you?" He seethed, shoving me slightly.

"I'm sorry, James. I was brushing my teeth." I said, my body still tense.

"Sorry, James, I was brushing my teeth" He mocked, rolling his eyes. "I told you yesterday evening, I had an early meeting. That I wanted my breakfast early today."

"I'm sorry. It completely slipped my mind." I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes.

I knew that look on his face and I knew that I was in trouble.

"Why can't you ever abide by me, Isabella? Why can't you be the kind of wife that appreciates her husband?" He demanded, pushing me harder and further back into the bathroom.

Picking up my toothbrush, he launched it at my face, as he stepped closer to my trembling body.

"Sometimes I wish I had never met you, Isabella. We are, unmistakably, two different people, who got married for all the wrong reasons. Two people who, without a doubt, want different things in life." He seethed, ripping the buttons from my blouse. The buttons scattered throughout the air, leaving my blouse hanging wide open.

"You know Phil's wife is on baby number three. What the hell is wrong with you, why can't you give me a child?" He sneered, cupping my breast roughly in his hand, and starting groping me all over.

"James, please, we have to get to work. You have an early meeting." I whispered, trying to hold the tears back.

James froze, his body going rigid. He raised his head and looked me dead in the eyes; he grinned and then slammed my body against the cold tiled wall.

"What's the matter? Is your boyfriend at the office going to worry about you showing up late?" James laughed, taunting me, as he started removing my clothes and pushing his body forcefully against mine.

"James, I don't have a boyfriend at the office." I sniffled, as he pinned my hands above my head, continuing to callously grope my body.

I cried out in pain when he forced his fingers inside of me; relentlessly showing no mercy. He had my hands pinned above my head with his free hand, and his shoulder holding me firmly against the wall.

"It's no wonder that you can't conceive a baby, you can't even get wet. Maybe your female parts are as fucked up as you are." He scoffed, as he removed his fingers and undid the button of his slacks.

This is not the first time that James had ever raped me and I am sure it wouldn't be the last. I knew that I was his wife, but it was rape. Sex with James used to be simple, he at least was gentle. Now he takes it, getting off on the fact that he hurt me.

"James, please, it hurts and you know it." I cried out for mercy.

"It hurts? I thought you liked it rough, Mrs. Smith?" He laughed, all the while pushing himself forcibly inside of me.

My body was limp and in pain, as he continued to pound into me. My mind was completely numb, void of anything. James was grunting, as he whispered dirty words in my ear.

"You know that feels good. Having my cock abusing your pussy," He sneered, grabbing my hair and jerking my head backwards, so he could see my face.

"Say it, Isabella." He demanded, forcing my tear-filled eyes to meet his.

"Yes, James." I choked, trying to keep the bile down.

"Yes, James, what?"

"Yes James, it feels good."

Hell no, it didn't feel good, I could have vomited on those words and they tasted like poison on my tongue. I hated his touch, I hated his looks, I hated everything about this man; I hated him.

I swear to God that I was going to get away from him. I'd move heaven and earth if I had to, I would find a way. James was always telling me that if I ever left him, he would make my life a living hell. He had threatened to kill me, in graphic details.

One day while we were at a local fish market, he had held a fish hook in his hand. He took the hook and placed it to my cheek. Slowly, he ran the hook down my face, then my neck and finally onto my chest. He laughed, as he explained to me the torture that he would inflict on my flesh with a hook just like that one.

"Oh God!" James cried out, as he finally reached his climax.

He laid his sweaty face on my neck. I could feel his sticky flesh sticking to my skin. I wanted to push him off and run. I wanted to vomit at his feet, to show him just how sick his touch had made me really feel.

"That color was all wrong on you baby." James snickered at my shredded blouse that lay at our feet.

"Blue is not your color. You need to rid your closet of anything blue."

He stepped away, pushing his flaccid cock into his slacks, affixing the button back in place.

After he left the bathroom, I walked over to the mirror, I looked like hell and I needed to be in my office in thirty minutes. I finished removing what clothing wasn't ripped from my body and stepped into the shower. Maybe if I scrubbed my flesh hard enough, I could rid it of James' vile touch. My lower body ached, feeling as if my female parts were on fire.

After I stepped out of the shower, James was standing in the doorway with one of his arms propped up.

"I'll see you this evening, around five. Try to be home and have dinner waiting." He said. "I love you, Isabella, and you know I don't mean to hurt you."

"I know." I whispered.

"Good. I'll see you around five?"

"I'll try, James, I have a lot going on at work."

"Well family comes first. You pay people to handle everything; maybe you should fire some people and hire someone who knows what they are doing." I knew who he was throwing that comment at, Angela Webber.

Angela was my right-hand woman. I don't know what I would do without her. She did more work than her position called for, working endless hours, so I could leave the office at James' demand. I guess, she stayed because we were friends.

Angela knew all about James, she was my one and only friend, in my world of hell. James forbade any friendship I had outside of work. If it had not been for Angela, I would have lost my mind a long time ago. She begged me to leave James and even offered to let me stay with her.

~!~

"Hey Bella. Your sister-in-law called." Jessica informed me as soon as I stepped off of the elevator.

"I'll call her later." I hated my sister-in-law, Victoria. She was always sticking her nose into mine and James' business. She has to be one of the most narrow-minded, pompous and interfering person I had ever met.

I walked into my office and shut the door behind me. I could breathe now. I loved being at work, tucked away in my corner office. I didn't have to worry about James looking over my shoulder or fear of being physically assaulted for saying or doing the wrong thing.

I sat down at my desk and got to work. Before I knew it, it was lunch.

"Bella…" I heard Angela's voice and a knock, as she opened the door.

"Hey Ang," I said, smiling at my best friend.

"Lunch?" She asked.

"Nah, I think I will work through lunch and try to get as much done as possible. James wants me home around five." I glanced at the clock, biting my bottom lip nervously.

Closing the door behind her, Angela walked over and sat on the leather couch that sat in front of my window.

"Bella, I wanted to let you know that the apartment next to mine is now open." Angela informed me.

"Ang, I can't. You know he'll never let me go." I reminded her, as the unshed tears stung my eyes.

"Bella, why can't you just go to the police? There are laws that will prevent him from harming you. They can protect you."

"Ang, his best friend is the chief of police. He is a high priced lawyer. The law is on his side, through preferential treatment. You know that he has already threatened to take my company, if I dare to divorce him." I removed my glasses and rubbed at my eyes.

"He threatened to take my life, if I try to leave." I whispered.

"I am damned to stay with him. There is no way out Ang. He threatened to have me kidnapped and tortured."

"Tortured?" Angela questioned, her eyebrows shooting up, and concern laced her voice.

"Tortured. As in taking me somewhere where my cries cannot be heard, torturing my flesh with hooks, knives and God only knows what else. He said that after he was finished torturing me, he would burn me alive."

"That's sick, Bella. Really sick. Why can't you tell the police about his threats. Record him saying these things or something, and then they would have to listen." She said.

"You don't know James like I do, Ang. James has power, influence that I don't have. He comes from a family with money and power. I come from working class people, who spent their lives working their fingers to the bone, just so I could have a shot in this world." I explained.

"I hate him. I hate that you have to live through this every day."

"I hate him too. Believe me; no one hates my husband as much as I do. I don't understand why he wants to stay married. He confessed his own unhappiness to me."

"What are you going to do, Bella, spend the rest of your life in a loveless marriage? Continue to be abused for the rest of your life?" Angela asked.

"I don't know. I live life one day at a time now. I don't think about the rest of my life." I frowned, rubbing my hand over my face.

"What about kids? Don't you dream of having happiness and babies one day?"

"I honestly don't dream about much anymore. This company is all I have to keep me sane."

"I wish that there was something I could do." Angela said as she walked to the door, putting her hand on the doorknob. She turned back to face me.

"I would do anything to help you." She whispered and left my office.

I called to check on my mother. It was the only time I could speak to her. James hated my parents; he said that they had no class. I didn't get to see my parents much, James hated it when they dropped by. I usually got in trouble when they would come by without warning. I never told my mother about any of it, I think she just knew, so my parents started staying away more and more.

My mother only called me at the office; she never called the house anymore. James' family could come by or call anytime, that was fine.

I have been sneaking money from my company from the start for my parents. I have it wrote up, as a work expense, in hopes that James never discovered it. Another account I have, that James knows nothing about, is "Thank you God for making an escape, I'm leaving James" fund. I started the account last year. It's in Angela's name and I have added every dime I can scrape up, without James knowing, into that account.

I worked in silence for the rest of the day, with only my music playing. I wasn't allowed to listen to music at home. James called my taste in music as noise. I was so caught up in work and the music that I lost all track of time. Looking up at the clock, it reminded me, it was ten minutes after five.

I sprang to my feet, grabbed my purse and coat, leaving my computer idle, as I rushed out the door and headed home. All the way home, I prayed that James would be running late or still at his office.

_Something, anything, just please don't let him be home._

The first thing I noticed when arriving home was James' car sitting in the driveway. He was home. I took a deep breath and walked inside.

"Well, well, well." James' voice came from the kitchen.

"You're finally home. How was your day dear?" He sarcastically asked.

"My day was fine; and yours?" I replied.

"Well lets' see. I had a pain in the ass meeting, first thing this morning. I sat in my office all day, daydreaming of a wife that would be home when I got here, and have dinner waiting for her hard working husband." He rubbed his chin and walked closer. "I guess I am a foolish man, you know? I mean, with the daydreaming of my wife ever doing anything to make me happy."

"James, I'm sorry. I had a lot on my plate at work." I sighed, leaning back against the door.

"Well at least you have something on your plate." He walked toward me, holding a fork up in his hand.

_No! He wouldn't go that far. Would he?_

"JAMES! No! Please, let me explain." I pleaded, watching him stalk towards me, trying to cover my face with my hand, but it was too late, James stabbed me in the hand that was trying to protect my face, with the fork.

I fell to the floor, the fork still standing up in my hand, as sobs erupted from my throat. _**Pure agony**__._

"Isabella." James whispered, dropping to his knees.

"I didn't mean to do it, baby, I swear. Are you okay?" He scooped me up into his arms and held me to him tightly.

"Please, James, don't touch me." I pushed away from him, staggering backwards.

"DON'T!" He yelled.

"Please, allow me to hold you." He murmured, as he ripped the fork from my flesh.

"Oh God!" I cried out, trying to stay upright, as my mind grew fuzzy.

My blood was spilling out, all over me, the floor and James. James continued to try and hold me to him, while I continued to push him away.

"Please James, please, just stop." I begged, standing up in an attempt to get away from him.

I was leaving, I didn't care where I went or if he did try to kidnap and torture me. I needed to leave; I needed to get the hell out of this joke of a marriage, once and for all.

"I'm sorry." James whispered, standing to his feet.

"I'm fine." I lied, covering my wound with my other hand.

"Just please, let me clean this up."

"Make love to me." James spat out.

"Make love to you? Are you kidding me? James, you need help. You're sick." I boldly spat back.

James never answered me but grabbed me and kissed me. I pushed against his chest, but I wasn't strong enough to push him away. He grabbed my hand that I had used to cover my wound and he licked the blood from my hand.

He pushed me back onto the couch and started hitting me in my face, my head and my neck repeatedly. Over and over. Over and over. He was yelling how much he hated me with each punch, each blow.

Finally, after what felt like hours, he stopped. He stood in front of me, staring down at me with cold eyes, and for the longest moment neither he, nor I, spoke a word.

As he towered over me, I thought back to the beginning of our marriage. James had started hitting me, not long after we were married, but it was usually single hits, here and there. This was the first time he had ever beat me up.

"You're going leave me, aren't you?" James finally broke the silence.

"Yes." I replied, as James sprang to his feet, pacing back and forth in front of the couch, where I lay motionless. My body trembled in fear, in apprehension of more blows.

"If you loved me, if you ever loved me, you would help me, Isabella." He continued pacing, his eyes wild.

"I will get help, if you stay. I promise you that I will make an appointment, first thing in the morning and I will get help." He pleaded.

"Isabella, please, I am at your mercy." He dropped to his knees.

"I am begging you and you know I don't beg anyone. I cannot lose you. It's not like this all the time. You know we have had some good times together, do you remember those good times, Isabella?" His eyes met mine, pleadingly, before he laid his head on my chest and sobbed.

"Do you remember when you and I first starting dating, and I took you to that carnival? That was so much fun."

I had to agree with him. That night was fun. James and I were like carefree teenagers, riding rides and playing games. James told me that night, that he thought he was falling in love with me. He made me feel so loved and so happy. That was also the night that he and I first made love.

"Tell me you remember, Isabella, please say it." He started to whimper.

I took a deep breath and tried to find any amount of mercy that I could.

"I remember, James." Tears made their way down my blood stained face. "I remember everything about that night."

James popped his head up and smiled, "That was the first time you and I ever made love."

I nodded. But my whole body ached in pain.

"I love you so much, Isabella," he paused, "Bella." He hasn't called me Bella in a long climbed upon the couch with me, every time he moved my body, I cried out in pain.

"Shhh.." He cooed, kissing my forehead.

"I'm going to help you remember that perfect night." He breathed, moving his hand under my blouse.

"What? No, James! I am in pain. Please don't do this. I need to go to the hospital." I begged, trying to fight and push his hands away.

"Not yet. You need to be reminded of my love." He continued rubbing my breast.

I could not fight him off, the pain was too much. I stayed as still as possible and tried to reason with James.

"The pain is too much, James." I begged.

"I will make the pain go away." He now had my bleeding body stripped down naked.

"James, I am begging you, please. Don't do this, if you love me, you'll stop." I put my hand on his cheek, in hopes that he would take that as a move of understanding.

"I am doing this because I love you." He said, licking the blood from my face and my neck, where my bleeding hand had touched.

"James, I'll stay. I promise. I'll help you get help. I'll stand by you. Anything, just please stop." I cried.

"Isabella, please. Allow me to make you feel better." He crawled down my body, spreading my legs open.

I laid there in silence, crying while my husband once again raped me. Over and over and over. James didn't stop. After hours upon hours of pure un-pleasurable pain and utter hell, he finally stopped.

"Get up." He demanded.

I slowly sat up, but that was as far as I got. I couldn't move, my body felt as if it was on fire. I willed myself to stand, wobbling. James helped me stand, scooping me into his arms. I don't know why, but I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders and buried my face in his neck; sobbing.

"I know, Angel. It's going to be okay, we're going to be okay." He promised.

Nothing is ever going to be okay. There was nothing okay about this man, this marriage, or myself, for allowing this abuse to go on for so long.

James gave me a bath, called his sister to come by and stitch my wounds. Victoria was a nurse and James convinced me that I didn't need to go to hospital.

Over the next two weeks, I laid in bed, while my body healed. I only left my bed to use the bathroom or shower. I prayed to God that I would die. I hopelessly pleaded to God throughout the nights, to please, just let me go, painlessly and in my sleep. I lost my will to live, but I didn't have the guts to take my own life.

Every night, over those two weeks, James promised me that we would make a baby. Night after night, he raped me. I didn't try to fight him, I lay there, comatose, and allowed him to do as he pleased. Night after night, I had to endure his sticky, clammy body against mine. He didn't care that I was in pain, he would beg for mercy when talking about leaving, but yet he showed me no mercy.

I prayed not only to die, but if there was a God in heaven, please don't let me get pregnant. James didn't allow me to take birth-control. Although I had stressed to him many times before that I wasn't ready to be a mother, that we weren't ready to be parents, he ignored me.

James talked a big game every night that he joined me in bed. He made promises of changing and promises of a bright, happy future to me. I laid there in silence, just nodding and smiling, all apart of an act.

James wasn't going to change; he knew that as well as I did.

~!~

"Good morning." James said, serving me breakfast in bed.

I just stared at him, pushing my tray away.

"You need to eat, Isabella. Today is your first day back to work." He demanded, pushing the tray back towards me.

"No thank you. I'm not hungry." I said, sitting the tray on his side of the bed, standing to my feet.

"Isabella, you could be having our child and you have done nothing for the past two weeks, but lie in this bed. I haven't seen you eat anything." His voice was filled with anger, not concern.

"I have been eating." I assured him.

"Fine! I don't want to argue with you." He threw his hands in the air.

I walked past James and into the bathroom. I shut the door and locked it, before stripping down and climbing into the hot shower.

The hot water felt so good. I closed my eyes and allowed the steam to relax me. Thoughts of James touching me played in my head, making me sick to my stomach.

Little did James Smith know, today would be my last day here; I was going to take my chances in leaving him. Whether I live or die, I was leaving. I will not step foot back into this house, the place that was once my home.

My plan was to act as if I was going to work, but I would be checking on that apartment beside of Angela. I'll stay with her until I was allowed to move in. After checking on the apartment, I would be going to the police, it may not help, but at least I can say I tried.

"Your body is so sexy covered in water." James said.

I jumped and turned around to see James standing behind me.

"How did you get in here?" I asked breathlessly, as I tried to cover my body with my arms.

"The key" He grinned, shaking the key that was clasped between his fingers.

"Isabella, don't hide that beautiful body from me." James cooed, moving my arms to my side.

"James, we can't do this. We're going to be late for work." I offered as my defense.

"We're our own bosses, Isabella." He whispered, pulling me to him.

At first I tried to push him away, but I had seen that all too familiar look of rage in his eyes.

_Come on Bella, you can do this, just one more day. Don't make him angry, don't provoke him. Give him what he wants before you end up back in bed for another two weeks. Get this over with and get the hell out of here; live or die._

"You will be home this evening?" James asked, as he stepped back.

"Of course I will." I smiled, pulling his body to mine and kissing him hard.

His groaning noises made me want to stab my own ears. I hated that sound. He was trying to be sexy, but doing a poor job at

James lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his body. He slowly, started kissing down my neck and chest. Taking my nipple into his mouth, he started sucking, gently.

"I love you so much, Isabella." He sighed, wrapping his arms tighter around my body.

"I cannot live without you." He continued kissing and sucking on my neck. "I know I do crazy things, but it's only because I love you so much, you know that, right?"

I nodded and smiled before kissing him back. Anything to shut him up. I hated it when he proclaimed his love for me.

"Do you want me baby?" He asked, slamming himself into me. I could feel his hardness against me.

"I do." I lied and closed my eyes, internally sighing, as I bit down hard on my lip to hold back the tears.

~!~

"Good Morning, ma'am." The newspaper vender handed me the paper.

"Good Morning." I smiled kindly in return.

"It's a beautiful September morning." I said, deeply inhaling the city air.

I guess I was chipper because I knew today I would be leaving James. I'd say I was a little nervous, but I wasn't, I was terrified. I just about knew that the police wasn't going to be much help. James' best friend was well known and well liked.

I had a million thoughts going through my head. A million more _'what ifs'_.

All I was sure of, was that I was leaving him, if it costs me my life, so be it. If today would be my only day free of his hell, then that's one day, I'll smile.

I walked to office this morning, usually I drove or took a cab, but the day was so beautiful, I figured I could use the walk.

As I walked into Tower One's lobby, I saw Angela. I ran to her hugging her firmly.

"Well good morning to you too." She laughed.

"It's good to have you back boss."

"Thanks." I chuckled.

"Is there a reason for this good mood?" Ang asked.

"Today is the day..." I had just got the sentence out and the whole building suddenly started to shake.

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><p><strong>Add me!<br>**

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	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks:** Thanks to **Isabelle Masen**, on facebook, her name on fanfic is **Mrs. Bella Masen,** for doing the beta work on this chapter. Thanks to **Cullen Confection** for being such a wonderful friend, and beta. You rock! She was MIA on this chapter, but I love her just the same.. *grins*

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I'm no Stephenie Meyer, nor do I claim to be. I'm just a simple redneck woman, living in the back of the woods. We're down home, southern roots type of people.

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><p><strong>Warning:<strong> This story contains sensitive matters.

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><p><strong>Author Notes:<strong> The response you have all given to this story is unbelievable. Thank you all so much for the support, words of encouragement, and friendship.

Nervie and I are going nuts with the story, so I hope you all continue to support it, and us.. _***smiles* **_The ideas are just flowing like crazy!

**Last, but certainly not least:** I got invited to write for the _**Fandom For Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS)**_. Whatever I choose to write, must be submitted by Sept. 30th and I'm honestly humbled that I have been invited into their group. Please feel free to check out their site, at, _**Fandom4LLS (dot) blogspot (dot) com**_. You can also follow them on Twitter under **Fandom4LLS**. All donations will get you a nice file filled with amazing writers work, and the money will be going to a wonderful cause.

Now, onto the story…

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><p>Lights flickered above our heads, as the fire alarm blared.<p>

Ang and I clung to one another, frightened, as we absorbed what was happening around us.

Our surroundings were in turmoil. People were shooting in all different directions, as the walls around us shook from whatever was occurring above us.

"What is going on?" Ang cried out, still grasping tightly to my shirt.

"I'm not sure," I whimpered.

We were inside the lobby one minute, distraught & confused for what felt like an eternity, then the next, we were both outside, watching the event unfold with petrified eyes and silent screams.

Standing outside, we watched, as the second plane crashed and exploded into the second tower. It didn't take us long to figure out just what was occurring around us. We stood and watched in horror, as the scene unfolded before us.

People were jumping from windows; the very people I knew and greeted every morning on my way to my safe haven. There were people I knew on the floors of which the planes had hit, and I had never been so scared in all of my life. My own personal hell; that was my life, all of a sudden seemed so small, as to what was going on around me. A deafening sound and tower one began to collapse. Terror screams erupted throughout the crowd, as we ran, everyone around us ran. People were pushing, falling, as they scurried in all directions. I held to Ang with all of my might, as she did me and we ran, fell, got back up and continued to run.

The sound was so eerie, it sounded as if the heavens were falling out of the sky. But believe me, it was no heavenly scene, it was hell. Pure hell to watch and hear the cries of our fellow American's.

As I ran, my head was still turned, watching, as innocent people plunged themselves from the collapsing building, fire raging above them. Images that will forever be burned into my brain, heart, and soul.

Everything was happening in slow motion.

Surrounding me, I could hear the cries of those who rushed to safety. Asking God why this was happening. Who could do something so cruel?

In mere seconds, ash was covering everything. Each building, every tree, vehicles and person. There was no color in sight. Everything looked like it was straight out of an old black and white film.

The ash was so thick, making it hard for a person to breathe. I was covered from head to toe, as was Ang.

People all around still screaming, praying, cursing and some still running in fear.I looked back at the building, the one that had once held my office. All that remained before my eyes, were fire, smoke and ash.

My heart tugged inside of my chest, crippling me, it was gone. Everything was gone. My business, my corner office, the sanctuary that held my happiness; gone.

With one last, backward glance, Ang and I darted behind an ash covered fire truck. There, we covered our faces, trying to gulp in as much fresh oxygen that we could.

The two of us clung to one another, sobbing uncontrollably, minutes later. We desperately tried to pull ourselves together.

As we stepped back out into the street, my heart ached, clenching tightly in my chest. Everyone was unrecognizable. Every inch of them was grey. Once in awhile, you would recognize a person by their eyes. Eyes that were now haunted.

People were walking around in a daze, completely lost in the turmoil around them.

Debris was everywhere. The city surrounding us was in a complete cloud of white smoke.

Firemen were sitting on the sidewalks, their heads bowed in prayer, as they tried to catch their breath and pull themselves back together. White masks perched upon their mouths.

"What do we now?" Ang cried, tightening her grip on my hand.

"I'm not sure," I sobbed, squeezing her hand in mine.

Everything had happened so fast, that I had escaped the horrors of my life. Completely forgotten them.

Ang and I stood, rooted in our spots, in complete horror of the destruction around us.

"ISABELLA MARIE SMITH!" The voice I knew all too well, and feared, sounded out among the crowd.

I quickly spun around, searching the voice out. It was in that instance, that I knew for sure, this was the opportunity to get away. Away from the rape and the abuse.

God forgive me for even thinking of myself at a time like this.

"Isabella, goddammit, where are you?"

He was grabbing innocent people walking by.

"ISABELLA SMITH!" he screamed.

"Baby, please come to me." He stopped a man, holding my picture up.

"Have you seen this woman?" He bellowed.

"DAMMIT! Isabella!" He called out again, pushing the man to the side and cutting through the crowd.

My body tensed, as I seen him, fearing he would find me. It was too late to run, he'd see me, so I stood there, waiting for my hell to begin again.

"Have you seen this woman?" He screamed, demandingly, shoving a small picture into a passing man's face.

The man examined the picture, then shook his head no.

James shoved past the man, coming closer to me.

I watched his rage filled eyes closely, as they grew closer. One minute he was pleading with people, begging for me. The next he was cussing, shoving people around.

The closer he got, the more my body trembled. Ang stood beside me, watching him as well. She held my hand firmly, squaring her shoulders, preparing, as if, a battle was about to occur.

I had completely forgotten that I was covered in grey soot, when his hard eyes met mine. I tensed, waiting for him to appear in front of me, for the blows to start.

I was baffled when he appeared in front of me, shoving the picture in my face.

"Have you seen this woman?" He asked, his eyes dark and penetrating, as he stared at me.

I shook my head no, knowing not to speak. If I had, he would have knew right then, that I was his wife.

He quickly stepped around me, rushing off into the crowd.

I stood in my spot, completely baffled, knowing I had fooled him.

One would think that after being married for years, you would recognize your other half by their eyes. If one ounce of you loved someone, you would see them in their eyes. James didn't love me, he didn't even know me.

"We have to get you out of her, Bella," Ang exclaimed, pulling me farther up the street. "You've been saving money, and now is the perfect time to get you out. You got to run for it. I'll help you. I have like 80 bucks on me. We can clean out your hidden account you have later."

Ang pulled the money from her pocket, as the tears pooled in her eyes."You got to get away from him."

"Yeah," I mumbled, still trying to wrap my mind around James not realizing who I was.

"We can go back to my apartment, find you several pieces of clothing, and get you out of the city," Ang continued to ramble.

"I have to see my parents, Ang, they can't live on, thinking their child is dead," I whispered. I just couldn't live with myself if I let them think I was dead.

"Well, we'll get you to the Belford ferry, so you can see your parents, and say goodbye," Ang agreed, pulling me faster.

"Once you see your parents, and explain things, we'll get you as far away as possible," she said her mind and mouth going a mile a minute.

"I can't think you enough, Ang, for doing this." I whispered, trying to hold back the tears.

"Bella, I'm your best friend, and I'm so sick of seeing you live in fear. It's not healthy, and you deserve so much more," Ang murmured, squeezing my hand in hers.

"I got my little sister a cell phone for her birthday yesterday, it's activated, and you'll keep it, so you contact me later on. We don't want James to find you," she said calmly.

It was then, that I realized just how much Ang loved me. Her looking out for me, trying to protect me, warmed my heart. She was a remarkable woman, and I'd miss her after I was gone.

We managed to make it back to Angela's apartment later that afternoon. The city was on lock down, and the cab service was insane, so we chose to walk there.

Inside, Ang rushed around the apartment gathering things she thought I would need.

While Ang was packing, I had searched the internet for small towns. A place that I could escape to and no one would know me. After thirty minutes of searching, I had settled on a place in Washington State, called Forks. It seemed like a fairly small town.

The next day, and two suitcases full of personal items, we were headed towards the Belford ferry.

I knew I wouldn't be able to spend much time with my parents, when I arrived there. I quickly pushed the thoughts of not seeing them again away, knowing this was what had to be done.

We held one another tight, whispering our goodbyes, while sobbing together. This was our farewell for awhile, but we made promises to see one another in the distant future.

After seeing my parents, and explaining things to them, I was scheduled to take a greyhound bus across the country. I would no longer be the city girl, whose business dreams had came true.

Once I arrived in Forks, I would find someone to forge documents. I would become someone different, and start a new life.

I boarded the ferry, eyes focused on Ang, hoping she could see the love I felt for her. That she could tell how much her friendship had meant to me. Both our eyes showed the promise of one day seeing each other again.

Along my journey, I watched as the water ripples around us. In the distance, you can see the pillow of smoke that loomed over the city.

My thoughts wondered back to the first time James had hit me, six months after our wedding. I had come home late from work and James wasn't pleased. Before I had even made it halfway across the living room, James was in my face, telling me what a worthless piece of shit I was. That was the first time he had smacked me. Smacks then turned to punches throughout our marriage. Him stabbing me with the fork was the last straw.

I was quickly brought back to the present, with the sounding of the horn. We had reached the shoreline, ready to depart.

Once the ferry was secured, I left the ferry in search of a cab. My parents lived in Pleasantville, so the journey wouldn't take too long.

After I caught a cab, I gave him the address, and watched our surroundings pass by. A soft song played on the radio, and I hummed along.

Each mile we crossed, I read the big billboards. One struck me hard, and seemed like a message meant for me.

_Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have always imagined._

Tears pooled in my eyes, as I read the billboard again before passing.

I was confident in my decision. My dreams of getting away from James were coming true. I would live the life I had always wanted. There was no one to stop me now.

Before long, we were pulling up to my parent's house. I paid the driver, and thanked him for his time.

After stepping out of the cab, I took in a much needed breath, and steeled myself for the conversation I was about to have with my parents.

I walked up the narrow walkway, to the brown house. Standing at the door, I raised my hand up to the doorbell, my finger hovering over the tiny button.

Breathing deeply, my finger met the round, white button, gently pushing it. Behind the door, somewhere in the house, my parents were there, possibly in tears and panic, trying to reach me. I was unsettled, knowing they were thinking the worst.

Moment later the door swung open, my father's warm, brown eyes met mine. They were red, and swollen, and I began to weep. I wept for the fear he had felt, thinking I was among those still buried in the rubble.

In an instant, his arms were wrapped around me tightly. We stood there sobbing, long enough to worry my mother. She had come to find out what was going on, and when she saw the sight before her, she gasped and ran towards the two of us. Her loving arms wrapped around us both pulling us tightly against her.

Once the sobs had stopped, my parents stepped back and looked me over. Apparently making sure that I was okay and not hurt.

"I'm alright guys," I smile through my tears.

"Thank God! James has called us several times, in a fit, scared to death," Mom commented. "You must call him immediately!"

"Wait, why are you here, and not with him?" Dad asked, a look of concern gracing his face.

"I'm running away, this is my chance, it's the perfect opportunity." I whispered, my eyes downcast to the floor.

"What's that? What's going on, Isabella?" My mom asked, stepping in front of me and pulling my face up to meet hers.

"I'm running away. I can't take the abuse anymore. If I don't get out, leave him, he'll end up killing me," I sobbed, as my mother buried my face in her neck.

"My poor baby!" Mom exclaimed, her hold getting tighter.

"I'LL KILL THE BASTARD!" Dad roared, his face turning redder by the second.

"Please Dad, you'll do nothing. He must not know I'm alive. He has to think I'm buried beneath the rubble; dead." I pleaded. My life depended on his silence.

"Tell us what's going on," Dad said with a sigh, trying to rein in his anger.

Over the next hour, I told them everything. All the things he had said and done, his threats of torturing me if I left him. I showed them the pierced markings in my hand, where James had stabbed me with the fork. The marks were scabbed over now, healing as we spoke.

By the time I was finished, my mother was in tears, and my dad's anger had reached a boiling point. He was ready to explode, but my mother's hand in his, seemed to keep him grounded.

"It'll be okay. We'll mourn your lost with James, and act the part. You must get away from that vile man," my Mom whispered through her sobs.

"I'll send for you in time," I promised them both.

I knew wherever I went, that I would want my parents to follow later on down the road. James had kept me from them long enough, and I wanted time, no, I needed time with them.

I told them the plan, as I had planned it out. They listened closely to each and every detail, throwing in their suggestions here and there. I had always cherished my time with my parents, and this time was no different. It was the last time that I would have contact with them for awhile, and a longer time seeing them. I would miss them dearly, but they understood why I was doing this.

"I have a couple hundred dollars, I want you to take it," my dad insisted.

Two hours later, after a long goodbye with my parents, I was in line, boarding the greyhound bus that would take me across the country.

My new life was beginning, and I wore a smile on my face. I was grasping my freedom, clutching to it with my fists, and relishing in my new found happiness.

My hands trembled in excitement as my feet touched the first step. A smirk formed on my face with the next, and a full blown smile with the third.

Walking down the middle strip that lead to all the accommodating seats, I was ready to skip.

I found a seat next to a lovely old woman with white hair, tied up in a bun. She sat alone, with her reading glasses attached to her face, and her nose buried in a crossword puzzle book. A beautiful afghan covered her knees.

The woman looked so peaceful, and I almost regretted disturbing her peace. Looking at her made me feel safe, her eyes soft and gentle, reminding me of my own grandmother. I needed that for this trip.

I lifted my bags overhead, and sat myself down in the seat next to her, as quietly, and softly as I could. I quickly settled myself in the seat, glancing out the corner of my eye to make sure I had not upset her, only to see her staring back at me with a warm smile. Slowly turning my head, meeting her warm hazel eyes with mine, I greeted her with a genuine smile of my own.

"Hello dear," the kind woman said.

"Hello, I'm Bella."

"Nice to meet you Bella. I'm Elizabeth," she smiled, raising her hand for me to shake.

We settled back in our seats and listened, as the driver announced the bus route information. The longer he droned on, I sank further into my seat, feeling slightly queasy.

_I was doing this, really doing this. In a matter of time, I would have a new life._

Elizabeth, being the extremely kind lady that she was, seem my distress and quickly wrapped her hand around mine, easing my clutched hand from the arm rest, and squeezed gently.

"It's alright my child, I'm here," she cooed softly from her seat.

I gave a tight smile, staring straight ahead, and let her words repeat over and over in my head. The tension in my body began to settle, as calm washed over me.

Once the driver was finished with his announcement, I closed my eyes and sighed.

I had begun my journey with a rocky start, the nerves had gotten to me, so by the first hour into our trip, I didn't speak, just kept repeating in my head that everything would be fine. I had closed my eyes at the end of that first hour, settled back and drifted to sleep.

A gentle shaking woke me from my slumber, and my eyes sprung open, focusing on the wrinkled hand upon my wrist. I brought my eyes up, looking to my left, and seen that Elizabeth wore a small smile.

"It's time to wake up sweet child, we're at our first stop," she spoke softly.

"Thank you," I said, my cheeks warming in embarrassment.

I had slept that entire time, and now we were in the middle of Pennsylvania, at our first rest stop.

I stood and helped Elizabeth from her seat. She beamed at my kindness, and gladly took my hand. I knew I had found my first friend in my new life, and that made my heart soar.

We made it off the bus, and inside the little café that occupied the corner of our stop. I helped Elizabeth to her seat, and went to order both of us our drinks and a sandwich.

We shared an insightful conversation, while finishing up our snacks. After we were finished, we used the restroom, tidied up, and headed back for the bus.

Once again I helped Elizabeth back to our seats, and settled in. Thirty minutes later we were on our way again. I sat back and though about the rest of my trip. _How long would Elizabeth be here to keep me company?_

Days had passed, and we were now in Iowa. The Des Moines stop was nice, and the people there were friendly. Elizabeth was still my riding partner, and we had shared many conversations between sleep on our journey.

Elizabeth had lost her husband the year before, and was now gaining the courage to move on in life. She spent the past year mourning his lost, but finally decided she should move to a little town in Washington, called Port Angeles. She had three sons who lived there, with her nine grandchildren. She was excited to say the least.

I was excited that Elizabeth would be in Washington for good, thinking that we could get together later on down the road.

As we sat in the little café, enjoying a cup of coffee, a television played in the corner. We both were focusing on the news about the trade center, when a news anchor came on. Standing beside of him was none other than James, holding a picture of me.

My body went rigid, as I became pale. Tension set up in my body, making it hard to comprehend what was going on around me.

A soft hand tugged at mine, and my eyes snapped up to see Elizabeth trying to gain my attention. I quickly looked around the café, trying to see if anyone had recognized me. Turning back to Elizabeth, I met her eyes, and they were filled only with kindness and love.

Elizabeth pulled on my hand once again, wanting me to get to my feet. I quickly stood, keeping my head down, as she guided us back to the bus.

"It's okay sweet child," she whispered, now being the one taking care of me.

"I'll explain on the bus, I promise," I returned her whisper.

Once on the bus, and seated, I began to tell Elizabeth about my past, and what was now to be my future.

The entire time, Elizabeth squeezed my hand, assuring me that everything would be fine. Her eyes were filled with pain during most of the retelling, but by the time I was finished they were shining with acceptance, love, and pride.

"You poor child, you've been through so much," she sighed, cupping my cheek in her hand as I cried. She ran her finger softly over my wet cheek.

"My son, Marcus, can help you get the papers that you need," Elizabeth whispered, her eyes darting back and forth to see if anyone was listening.

"I couldn't ask for you to have your family involved, Elizabeth. What if James found me? I couldn't do that to you," I exclaimed, my eyes wide at what she was saying.

"You didn't ask, I'm telling you!" Elizabeth said.

"I don't know," I said worriedly.

"We'll figure it all out when we get there. You'll just have to change your bus route to Port Angeles. Forks is an hour away from there," she smiled, squeezing my hand.

"Alright," I sighed. "Thanks you. For everything."

I pulled Elizabeth into a hug, squeezing her as tightly as I could. The kindness that she has shown me, was something out of this world. No other person would have been like this. Everyone else would have screamed, has they seen my picture on the television.

"Just remember, my sweet child, hope is like the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us." She smiled warmly.

Her words touched my heart, and made it sing, as the tears pooled in my eyes.

Long hours ahead of us, Elizabeth and I both got situated in our seats and quickly drifted into the blackness.

* * *

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